


i think your eyes could use some sleep

by spaceprincessem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, PTSD, Pre-Slash, Soft boys starting to fall in love, Warning: Kate Argent, post pool scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem
Summary: He squeezed his eyes shut, but all he could see was the rippling blue, the accusing look of betrayal darkening the sweet honey-whiskey that had adorn him with a look that had nearly shaken him to his core. Because people weren’t supposed to look at Derek reverently. They were only supposed to see the guilt ridden monster, the husk of a man that was all teeth, who was getting exactly what he deserved. Stiles wasn’t supposed to understand or think that Derek was anything other than an abomination and yet the boy who had every reason to hate him hadn’t let him go.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 5
Kudos: 109





	i think your eyes could use some sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badbrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbrains/gifts).



> hello all. I can't believe I've never written a post pool scene fic, but here we finally are! 
> 
> reece gave me this lovely prompt for March "cause i kind of want a fic from derek, maybe preslash, where he kind of just. inadvertently compares stiles to kate because kate is kind of all he has known ??? so it’s kind of like derek being on edge waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never does, cause people aren’t supposed to be like kate"
> 
> and this is what I wrote. so thanks bestie for the prompt love you lots <3
> 
> title inspired by Flatsound's song "You Were A Home That I Wanted To Grow Up In"

The smoke was thick, black, endless as it curled against him, the heat licking his skin. He was blinded, his senses numb, throwing him off balance. He couldn’t move, like his veins had been filled with lead and he was sinking, sinking,  _ sinking _ . When he opened his mouth to scream his lungs filled with water. When he opened his eyes he wasn’t trapped in the flames of the Hale house, he was drowning beneath the rippling blue. He screamed and scrambled and screamed. His body was useless, his fingers endless reaching for the shape of a boy who was falling right along with him. And Derek could have laughed at the irony of it all. While his family suffocated in the fire, in the smoke, in the ash, he would be damned to swallow the very thing that could have saved them. A punishment well deserved as he sunk to the bottom, still screaming, because he could just never fucking die alone. He’d always drag someone down into the depths of his consequences. One last stain of blood on his hands. One last life taken too young because Derek just didn’t know when to fucking quite.

_ “You did this to me.” _

His screaming ceased, his chest tightening as the corpse of the boy who had held him for hours floated over him, suspended by darkness. And despite the crushing weight of water, the choking burn of chlorine ravaging his throat, there were the bright, hot flames of fire turning Stiles to ash, to dust,  _ to nothing _ .

_ “You did this to me.” _

It was Stiles’ voice, but it was Laura’s too. And Cora and Peter and his mother and father and Derek couldn’t fucking  _ breathe _ because there was so much water, but something just wouldn’t let him die. And Stiles watched him with sad, dead eyes, the honey-whiskey melted into pools of black and Derek was screaming again, but no one could hear him. No one would ever hear him and, and,  _ and _ ….

And this time when he screamed it rang throughout the empty warehouse before he quickly choked it down. He could taste blood as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, desperately pleading for his betas to not have heard. He strained his ears against the quiet hum of the empty room. He could hear the soft dip of a mattress, the murmur of nonsense, but no one ran into the room to see if he was okay. He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as the air soured with anxiety and fear. 

_ Isaac. _

He knew the boy felt the scream, heard it reverberating in his skull, but Isaac wasn’t a stranger to nightmares and he knew when someone wanted to be alone. Derek felt his claws sinking into the worn mattress, his chest still heaving as he filled his lungs with something that wasn’t tainted by chemicals. He was fine. He was fucking  _ fine _ . 

But he wasn’t fine.

Derek Hale had never been fine since he had learned the terrible reality of what loving the wrong person got you. And he could build a new pack all he wanted. He could pretend like he didn’t fucking care or that he was some big, bad Alpha that only craved power, but he just wanted what he could never really replace. His eyes may have bled red, but he still felt like that fifteen year old boy whose beta gold melted into ice blue as he held the first, devastating consequence of his selfishness in his blood soaked hands. He was always torn, always making the wrong decision, always taking down anyone that got too close. It was only a matter of time before he reduced his new pack to corpses. 

_ To dust.  _

He squeezed his eyes shut, but all he could see was the rippling blue, the accusing look of betrayal darkening the sweet honey-whiskey that had adorn him with a look that had nearly shaken him to his core. Because people weren’t supposed to look at Derek reverently. They were only supposed to see the guilt ridden monster, the husk of a man that was all teeth, who was getting  _ exactly _ what he deserved. Stiles wasn’t supposed to understand or think that Derek was anything other than  _ an abomination  _ and yet the boy who had every reason to hate him hadn’t let him go.

_ “That’s just like you, Der,”  _ her voice purred, a sickening sweet sound that haunted every dark corner of his mind, “ _ letting a human be your undoing. _ ”

Derek covered his ears, but it didn’t matter, it would never matter.

“ _ One is an incident, _ ” she continued, her fingers tracing across the hard line of his shoulders, “ _ two is a coincidence _ ,” and he could hear the fucking smirk in her voice, his stomach twisting until he felt like he was going to be sick, “ _ and three is a pattern.” _

“Shut up.” He growled because she didn’t belong here.

Her laughter echoed in the emptiness.  _ “And you call yourself the alpha? Alpha’s don’t cry, Derek. Alphas are strong and smart and all of the things you’ll never be _ .”

His cheeks burned as he felt that familiar prick in the corner of his eyes, chest tightening with that all too familiar iron grip of his self hatred. But Kate was right. He could never live up to being the alpha, let alone the last Hale Alpha in Beacon Hills. He wasn’t a leader. Just a means to an ugly end. 

“ _ But I can make you strong,”  _ her hands slipped down his chest, “ _ I’m the only one that can really make you worth something _ .”

Derek was on his feet, bolting from the room, as if he could leave the memory of Kate behind. Despite everything she really had won in the end. She’d dug her claws into the tattered remains of his heart, fooling him into believing he was worthy of love. And just when Derek thought he had found something to call his own, he realized he was just letting the second, horrendously damaging consequence of his selfishness burn right into the palm of his hand, severing the connection of the Hale line. 

“ _ In the end they’ll all either betray or leave you _ ,  _ Derek _ .” Kate called to his retreating form, “ _ And in the end you’ll realize I’m the only thing left you’ve got _ .”

Derek didn’t look back -  _ couldn’t look back _ \- despite knowing Kate wasn’t really there. As he met the cool, crisp air he tried not to remember the way Stiles saw him in that moment after their near end. Like he  _ wasn’t _ the monster. 

Derek almost wished he wouldn’t.

* * *

It seemed like a terrible idea, really, going back to the spaces that haunted your dreams. Derek had never thought about how places could be monsters too. Not until he was trapped beneath a thick layer of smoke, coughing until his lungs gave out. Until he was huddled against the roots of an ancient tree, ears straining to hear a heartbeat that was no longer there. Until he was left alone -  _ abandoned _ \- in the burnt remains of his childhood home. Until he was suspended in the cold, unforgiving water of the Beacon Hills High swimming pool. He thought if he faced down his demons, looked them dead in the eye, then maybe he could get them out of his head and into the past. He’d learn time and time again that the ache never really went away and the nightmares never fully disappeared. He just grew used to them, allowing himself to become so numb to the pain that it was almost a relief when something new and terrible came around to take its place. 

The stench of chemicals burned his nose, something that tasted like bile and  _ fear _ rising in the back of his throat. The water was still, undisturbed, but if he closed his eyes he could hear it sloping over the sides. He could feel blunt nails digging into his skin as Stiles held on with all he had. He could inhale the scent of anxiety and panic and  _ determination _ as the boy kicked endlessly in the water. He could remember their last, shuddering breath before they both slipped beneath the surface…

“I wondered when you would show up.”

Derek’s gaze snapped from the water to the boy sitting cross legged on the diving block just a few feet away. There was a half smile curled against Stiles’ lips, his honey-whiskey eyes darkened by the hood pulled over his head. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and, to Derek, it looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Derek knew the feeling.

“Do you know how easy it is to break into this school?” Stiles continued with a slight chuckle that sounded a little too hollow. “This place is probably a breeding ground for things that go bump in the night.”

“Stiles,” Derek slowly walked over to where the boy was sitting, a frown tugging the corners of his lips down, “what are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, I’d imagine.” Stiles answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

Derek swallowed the lump in his throat, taking any biting retort with it. He’d greatly underestimated the boy sitting in front of him. Time and time again Stiles had proven that there was more than meets the eye. He listened. He observed. He saw people for what they really were. He’d fucking known that Derek would somehow end up here in the middle of the night. And Derek would have laughed too, except it was caught in his throat like the water that had filled his lungs as he sunk to the bottom of the pool. He would have laughed -  _ wanted to laugh _ \- because the water was just water and the fire was just fire and he was  _ fine _ . 

He waited for Stiles to say more, but the boy was unusually quiet as he made room for Derek to join him. Derek hesitated for a moment before climbing onto the block, knees knocking into Stiles’. They sat, pressed together, as the lights beneath the surface danced over the water. Derek waited. He waited for Stiles to tell him that Derek was a werewolf -  _ an alpha _ \- and it was ridiculous that he should even be here at all. He waited for Stiles to mock him, lips twisting into an ugly smirk, reminding Derek that this is what he wanted, but he didn’t have the guts to survive. He waited for Stiles to laugh at him, tell him he was  _ nothing _ , and that he should have let Derek go. That Derek wasn’t worth saving or risking his life for. He waited and waited and waited, wishing that Stiles would just get it over with because Kate really was the only thing left he-

“You know,” and Derek finally braced for impact, “the next morning when I went to shower I had a fucking panic attack.”

Derek turned his head slightly, eyes catching the slight heave in Stiles’ chest, his hands wringing together in his lap. Stiles laughed again. That hollow sound that Derek felt vibrate against skin. 

“It was like as soon as the water hit my skin I couldn’t fucking breathe.” Derek could hear the crack in his voice, the strain that wanted to prove that he was okay. That he was  _ fine _ . “I haven’t slept soundly since that night.”

“Bad dreams?” Derek asked quietly.

“The same one.” Stiles answered with a small nod of his head. “Over and over again. And I thought-” He cut off, voice wavering.

“You thought if you came here you wouldn’t be afraid anymore.” Derek said, his eyes back on the pool. 

“Something like that.” He gave Derek a rueful smile. Derek watched as the boy licked his lips, breath catching in his throat as he tilted his head to the side. “You’re not weak, you know.”

“How do you know what I am?” Derek asked, his defenses prickling. Because this wasn’t what had been drilled into his head over and over again. This wasn’t an accusation or a mockery. This wasn’t a breakdown of his person. This wasn’t the painful reminder that he was the reason that nothing gold could stay.

“You turned your back on the kamina,” Stiles murmured, “to save me. Despite what you think you’re not the bad guy, Derek. You want to help people. You want to protect them.”

“Aren’t I always the bad guy in the end?” He asked with a pained smile as he stared down at his reflection. 

“Not to me.” Stiles said, his honey-whiskey eyes on Derek now. He got to his feet, carefully taking his shoes off, before he pulled his hoodie over his head. 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked as Stiles sat down at the edge of the pool letting his legs dangle in the water.

“You told me that the only reason I held you up was because I needed you alive.” Stiles said, his hands shaking as he gripped the edge of the pool, knuckles going white. “The only reason anyone ever needs Derek Hale to be alive is to use him for their own personal gain.” His head cocked over his shoulder for a moment, catching Derek’s soft and vulnerable gaze. “But really, I was holding on to you because I didn’t want to let you go.”

Stiles gently pushed himself into the water, arms spreading out to his sides as he carefully laid his head back. Derek could see that he was keeping his breaths steady as he floated right at the surface. Stiles looked ethereal, almost beautiful even, and suddenly, without thinking Derek was pulling off his jacket, easing into the water with care. It was just as cold as he remembered, but he could curl his fingers against the water, kick his legs until he was weightless, floating in its mercy. And as Derek took a deep breath, allowing himself to sink below the surface for a moment he realized the quiet wasn’t deafening. And as he reached the surface, giving Stiles the faintest hint of a smile, the boy giving him that look that still shook him to his core, he realized that maybe, he really wasn’t a monster after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading 🥺 let me know your thoughts!


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